Another tired day.
Little one keeping me awake until 1:00. Then 4:00. Then 6:00.
I don't like mornings much, and the lack of sleep makes this one a bit of a trial. Although the children are cheerful at breakfast, I am not. I try not to let it show.
They want a bath. Sure! That will give me some quiet time for my morning devotions.
I warm up my coffee, which has gone cold waiting for me.
Screaming heard in the bathroom. One constantly pestering the other. I catch myself yelling again. Too many warnings. Two time outs. More discipline. Will I ever get my devotions done? Will I get anything done in the house with my hands pulling my hair out?
As I warmed up my morning coffee for the third time, I thank God for my two little blessings and ask for more patience.
Ah, patience. Why can't I always have you? Why can't you come to me instead of anger, which makes me say, "Why do I have to keep telling you....!!"
Lunch is made with constant interruptions for attention and interventions. One spills an entire cup of milk all over clothes and the floor, while the other one keeps standing in his chair and screeching for something he can't have. I catch myself being exasperated again.
Lunch hour is over, clean up, (-ish) child washed. Again. As I warm up my coffee for the sixth time, I realize how patient God is with me and feel ashamed of my impatience. Instead of yelling "Why do I have to keep telling you?" our loving God constantly forgives, gently washing me clean.
I thank him again for my precious littles and pray for forgiveness. And my constant daily request -Help me become a better child of yours.
A crash and scream in the living room.